


Could've

by Rose_of_Pollux



Series: Inktober for Writers 2018: Hurt/Comfort edition [11]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 19:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16310897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: Part 2 of 2.  Napoleon won’t regret what he did to save Illya–even if Illya does regret it.





	Could've

Illya didn’t move or speak; he didn’t want to risk angering the THRUSH scientist further. He could only wait, hoping that Napoleon would be able to get a good aim at the scientist before anything happened.

Concern grew as the attack he’d been expecting from Napoleon didn’t come. Something had gone wrong, but what?

The THRUSH scientist, however, was oblivious.

“You will pay for this,” the scientist said. “You may have ruined my research, but I will not let you enjoy your victory.”

Illya backed away for a moment as the scientist began to squeeze the trigger.

“ _No!_ ” Napoleon yelled.

Illya stood stoically as the scientist fired, but then let out a cry as Napoleon tackled him out of the way; they both hit the floor, and Illya quickly took advantage of the scientist’s momentary confusion to tranquilize him with his Special before turning his attention back to Napoleon.

“Thank you, Napoleon,” he sighed. “You saved me…”

He trailed off, his eyes widening in horror as he saw the blood blossoming from Napoleon’s shoulder. Napoleon lay there, stunned, not fully registering what had happened to him.

“ _Nyet_ …!” Illya exclaimed, gently touching the side of Napoleon’s face.

“Wh… What happened…?” Napoleon asked.

“You’ve been shot!” Illya exclaimed. “Napoleon, why did you do that!?”

“My Special jammed…” Napoleon murmured, growing weaker as the wound continued to bleed—it seemed to have gone right through his shoulder, causing the blood to flow unimpeded. “Had to make sure… you were… alright…”

A chill gripped at Illya’s heart as Napoleon trailed off.

“Napoleon! Napoleon, you must stay awake!”

“I just… need to rest… a moment…”

“ _Nyet_! You cannot! I cannot lose you now!” A lump was forming in his throat. “Please… Stay with me, Napoleon.”

Napoleon exhaled quietly, but weakly gripped Illya’s hand with his own; Illya stopped the bleeding as best as he could until backup arrived.

After what seemed like an age, Napoleon was recovering in Medical, still weak but assured that he would live after his ordeal. He rested now, trying to conserve and regain his strength as Illya watched over him.

“Napoleon,” Illya said, as he kept his vigil. “I can never forget what you did today—when the logical course of action failed, you were then willing to sacrifice your life for mine. I know I should be eternally grateful for this, and yet… You have no idea how much I worried, thinking that I would lose you because of this…!”

“Didn’t… want to lose… you…”

“You must conserve your strength,” Illya chided. His expression softened. “But I understand; I would not have wanted to die and leave you that way, either. And I know not to tell you to never do this again, for I know you would trade your life for mine in a heartbeat again… Just as I would for you.”

Napoleon gave a weak nod.

“Then, perhaps, let us just settle for promising to do our best to survive and get through things together,” Illya said.

“I can… live with that…”

“…I do not know if you intended that as a pun or not, and right now, I am just too relieved at your survival to care,” Illya admitted. He had to bite back a chuckle as Napoleon managed a smirk.

Indeed, if it meant dealing with Napoleon’s puns for years upon years, he would welcome them—for it was far, far better than the alternative.


End file.
